


a beautiful lie/a painful truth

by araviis



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon-Typical Gore, Content warning: Suicide, Gen, Major Character Undeath, Resurrection, it may have been 15 years but i'm still in denial about kate, me? bitter? never, set in the s3-s4 hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22894066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araviis/pseuds/araviis
Summary: She doesn't remember who she is.  She doesn't even remember her own name.  But there's one thing she does know - she has to find her family.Finally safe, hiding out at Tony's place, Kate is determined to find out what happened to her.  But the clock's ticking, and she's not the only one reconnecting with the team.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. and dreaming through the twilight that doth not rise nor set

“What is the name of your superior?”

She stares up at her questioner, uncomprehending. He stands over her. It’s an intimidation tactic, that much is obvious; get in the subject’s face, make her feel small.

He strikes her.

There’s no point. She feels the contact, but not the pain. She hasn’t felt pain since she got here.

“ _What_ ,” he snarls, “is the name of your superior?”

“I don’t even know my _own_ name, jackass,” she spits back, as if on autopilot. It’s been a week – she thinks – and she realises that after the first day she’s barely spoken.

That actually stops her opponent.

“You have no memories?”

“I see faces. I don’t know anything about them.”

“And nothing else?”

She shrugs. “I think I had a dog. The truth is, I feel like I’ve always been here.”

He walks away, muttering something about “a waste of good resources”. The door slams shut behind him.

“Hey,” she yells after him, though she knows it’s futile, “does this mean you’re gonna let me go?”

* * *

Today is the day. Michelle’s sure of it.

Agent DiNozzo is off somewhere with the Director, and it’s making Michelle nervous. She needs to leave on time. All her paperwork’s done, and it’s almost five…

“Probie, I can hear you thinking from here,” McGee says without looking at her.

She sighs. “Do you think Agent DiNozzo is going to be long?”

“You need him for something?”

“I just don’t want to be late leaving today.”

McGee shrugs. “Then go.”

“You don’t think that would be… inappropriate?”

“I’m out of here as soon as I finish my paperwork.”

She glances across. “You’re playing a computer game right now.”

He glares. “Probie, go _home_.”

Michelle goes.

* * *

“You have to run.”

She looks up into the familiar eyes of one of Them, looming over her in the doorway.

“Quickly. You only have a few minutes, run _now_.”

“Don’t understand.” Is this a test? A trick of some kind?

A pair of hands take hers and pull her to her feet.

“You have to _run_ , Kate.”

Wide-eyed, she daren’t take in the name she’s just been given. She runs.

Wherever she’s being held, it’s close to the ground. There’s noise coming from outside, just to her left – she turns to see an open window. Glances out. Yes, she can make that distance. She scrambles down and flees, out onto a busy street. Dodge that car. Get out of the road, get out of the _road_! Stumbling, she falls on her hands and knees.

“Hey, lady! You need some help?”

She shakes her head _no_ , desperately, and gets up. Keep. Going.

The city is brightly lit, though the sky is black, and she lets autopilot take over. Run. Run. Into the city, left here, take that underpass, collide with a stranger-

“Sorry-”

_A man dangles from a rope in a prison cell._

He grabs her by the shoulders and stares.

“Special Agent _Todd_?”

* * *

It’s nine-forty-five, and DiNozzo’s still at work.

Probie was gone by the time he got down from Jenny’s office. It was the first hint of thinking for herself he’d seen from her, so he let it go, and when McGee and Ziva disappeared in quick succession, they didn’t seem to notice that he was still going.

Jeanne Benoit.

It’s dishonest and underhanded, and Tony doesn’t like it.

_“Yeah, okay, DiNozzo, you’ve never lied to a woman to get what you want.”_

If he looks to Ziva’s desk he’ll find it empty, so Tony keeps his eyes closed and stays in the fantasy. She’s shown up occasionally over the last year, but more and more since Gibbs went away. He could have done with her presence this last couple of months. “This isn’t what I want.”

_“Sticking to one woman gonna be too hard for you?”_

God. He wants to talk to her about this. He’s talked seriously with her more than he has with anyone else in his life. 

_“Then how come you’ve never once visited me?”_

“You know why,” he mutters.

_“Because you can’t bear to express your feelings?”_

He opens his eyes and glares at the empty chair. “Exactly.”

The phone rings. Damn it.

“DiNozzo?”

“Fornell,” he sighs, this is the last thing he needs – and _damn_ that bastard for knowing exactly where to find him at ten o’clock on a Thursday night.

Then he starts listening.

* * *

Fornell gives her information, but she can’t take it all in at once. Her name is Kate Todd. She’s an NCIS agent. She doesn’t even understand what NCIS is, but she has a name, and that’s more than she had this morning. A friend’s going to come and get her. Even better.

She has a friend.

“Um… Fornell?”

He gives her a funny look that’s like a smile but somehow seems wrong in this face.

“Do you have any paper?”

He gives her an empty pad and a few pens. Like a woman possessed, she starts drawing.

Fornell looks over her shoulder. “I thought you couldn’t remember anyone.”

She shrugs. “Not their names.”

He reaches around and points at the drawings, one by one. “That’s Gibbs. McGee. Sciuto. Mallard. And-”

A knock on the door. The pad goes flying as she leaps to her feet.

“It’s alright,” Fornell says, but she sees his hand resting on his weapon as he goes to answer the door. He opens it a crack, then all the way. “Come on in, I’ll… make myself scarce.”

A face she knows only from her dreams appears.

He freezes there in the doorway, his eyes fixed on hers. His mouth hangs slightly open.

She steps forward, shaky. Her hands rise up to touch his face. “I _know_ you,” she whispers, her voice cracked and dry.

“Oh, God, Kate,” he breathes, in a rush, and sweeps her up in a crushing hug. She lets out a gasp and he releases her. “Did I hurt you?” There’s such concern in his voice that she wants to cry.

“No,” she lets out, “no, no, Tony…” and clutches to him. His arms come back around her, gentler, and his hand slides up her back to her shoulders, her neck, the hole in the back of her head –

He scrambles away, eyes wide in horror.

“Oh,” she says, another memory flooding back. “I remember now. You were there when I died.”


	2. very sweet it is to know he is still warm while i am cold

“Kate,” Tony says, slowly, looking into her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

She shakes her head. “Me neither. I remember dying – I remember it _now_.” She laughs suddenly. “Gibbs was giving me a compliment. I should've known I was on death's door.”

 _Gibbs_. The name springs out of her before she even notices. Fornell told her, of course, but even so –

Tony is smiling too, pained but fond. “Then what happened?”

“I woke up in the cell. How long has it been? Two, three weeks?”

He’s not smiling any more. “Kate, it’s been over a year.”

 _No_. “That can’t be right. You’re wrong, I don’t-”

Tony steps forward, careful, draws her to sit down. “I saw your body, Kate. We buried you.”

She swallows heavily. Won’t let him see her feel. “I… have a grave.”

“Yeah.”

“Been there lately?”

“I, uh – it’s in Indiana,” he says, wincing. 

Kate narrows her eyes at him. “I _died_ and you’ve never visited?”

“Kate,” he lets out, and she smiles at him apologetically.

“All I’m saying,” she tries again, “is someone must have exhumed my body. It’s something to go on.”

He nods slowly. “I’ll check it out.”

“ _We’ll_ check it out,” she presses. This is her own death, her own whatever-hell-this-is. She is not giving the whole thing over to DiNozzo.

“And suppose those people are trying to find you, huh?” he snaps back at her. She recoils, just a little, before catching herself. Tony deflates. “Sorry.”

“You’re right,” she sighs.

Tony raises his voice a touch. “Fornell?”

Fornell steps back into the living room. “Hey, don’t look at me, DiNozzo, I just live here.”

“I’m gonna need some backup. Off the books.”

Kate feels like she’s a step behind. “Aren’t you going to call Gibbs?”

In the way they turn to look at her, she doesn’t feel encouraged.

* * *

It is early.

Very early, but he knows Ziva; she likes to start her day with the blood pumping.

He watches as she runs over the Arlington Memorial Bridge, past a man in a bright orange hat who turns to look back at her. She doesn’t notice.

She sees _him_ , though. Freezes in her tracks.

He smiles; she almost backs away.

“Little sister,” he calls out in Hebrew, “aren’t you happy to see me?”

Finally, she pulls herself together and approaches. She seems cautious of him. He wonders why.

“Ari,” she breathes, drawing nearer. “You are dead.”

“I was dead.” He remembers the bullet, though Gibbs, empty-handed, couldn’t have fired it. “Perhaps I still am.”

She touches the place in his forehead, carefully plugged with putty to avoid making himself noticeable.

“I sat shiva for you,” she says.

For all his faults, and he certainly has many, Ari has always loved his sisters. “Won’t you kiss me, Ziva?”

She doesn’t, but she wraps her arms around him in a close embrace. “I – I have missed you.”

He glances around. The Lincoln memorial looms over them – this city is full of memories. “You have made America your home.”

“Yes." She is smiling. "But you cannot.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“My place is with NCIS now, Ari. They would never trust me again.”

“Do you need their trust?”

Ziva smiles at him. “ _You_ need them to trust me. Come. I know a place where nobody will ask questions.”

He wonders whether _he_ can still trust her.

* * *

“Morning,” Kate sighs, emerging from the guest room in his old Baltimore PD sweater and a pair of boxers. She looks more human than she did last night, but there’s still a hole in her head, and she’s vividly determined not to freak Tony out any further.

“Good morning,” Tony responds, grunting, and rolls off the couch.

“Did you sleep out here?”

“Barely.”

She glances behind her. “I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own bed…”

“It’s protective custody, Kate, we don’t know what the hell’s going on and I’m not letting anyone snatch you in the night.”

She smiles. “Never knew you cared.”

“I care.”

Tony looks almost hurt. He really must be tired.

“You have anything edible in this kitchen?”

Tony jumps up, suddenly alert. “You hungry?”

“Famished.” She leans back against the countertop and watches as he rummages through the fridge. “Wow. I didn’t know you ate so healthy, Tony.”

“It’s just for show. Impresses the ladies.”

This feels just like old times. Kate’s kind of amazed how quickly she’s slipped back into her rapport with Tony. Even before she remembered who he was, she realises, she missed him.

“Bacon? Or is that too fatty for a health nut like you?”

“Hell, I’m already dead, what else can it do to me?”

“Ouch.”

She smiles. “It’s weird.”

“You’re right about that." He puts a pot of coffee on. “Listen, Kate, you’re going to have to stay here today.”

She knows that.

Kate doesn’t love the thought of staying here alone, but Tony has Gibbs’s job now – and she needs to get her head around _that_ , too. He has responsibilities.

“I’d like to have a weapon,” she says.

“There’s a pistol in the safe in the bedroom," Tony allows, "but I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” she admits.

Tony starts to dish out breakfast, piling her plate high. “So. I figure we need to decide what our next steps are.”

Kate takes a bite, reveling in the flavour. She hasn’t eaten anything but stale bread since she -- came to.

“Whatever this is, we’re going to need all the help we can get,” she says.

Tony sighs. “I’d better explain about-”

And there’s a hammering at the door.

“Bedroom,” Tony hisses, no room for argument in his tone. Not that Kate wants to argue. She retreats as far as the living room, and presses herself against the wall, listening.

“What are you doing here?” Tony demands, muffled but unmistakably angry.

“I need your help, Tony.” The accent strikes a chord. Whoever this is, she isn’t NCIS.

“I kind of have some things on my plate right now,” Tony says. There’s a long silence. “Come on,” Tony sighs, and Kate hears the woman enter.

“Do you have a guest?”

“Something like that. Ziva, Ari’s not the only one back from the dead.”

The floor drops out from under Kate.

She can’t help herself. She slams the door open. “ _What_?”

A momentary silence. “Damn it,” Tony says, “I told you to-”

“Can it, DiNozzo.” She turns to the strange woman. “Ari’s here?”

“He is in a motel,” the woman answers, curious but calm. “I followed him to be sure. He never could spot a tail,” she adds, a sheepish smile gracing her features.

“Kate,” Tony says, tension running through his voice, “this is Ziva. Ziva, Kate.”

Now the woman looks surprised. “Agent Todd?” she clarifies. Takes a step or two closed.

Kate nods, numb.

“Sit down,” Tony says. Kate does it, eyes fixed on Ziva, mirroring her.

“My brother was supposed to be dead – but I suppose, so were you.”

“Your brother.” This is too much. Kate averts her gaze from this strange and unnatural friend of Tony’s, looking to him instead. “Ari. He’s the one who killed me.” She knows it, suddenly, for certain.

Tony nods. “But Gibbs got him.”

Kate hears Ziva draw a breath. “No. He did not.”

“ _You_ killed him," she realises, transfixed.

“Is that true?” Tony demands beside her, deadly serious. “Ziva. Is that-”

“Yes,” she says, looking away from him. He stares at her. What the hell kind of relationship does DiNozzo have with this woman?

“Is there any risk he could know?” Kate presses on, determined to break the weird tension in the room. “I remember dying. Every second of it. Did he see you?”

“No,” Ziva answers, as eager as Kate to grasp at this straw. “I am certain. However, I am sure he knows it was not Gibbs. He was unarmed, and Ari had a rifle on him.”

“Then if he asks,” Tony says, “ _I_ killed him.” Ziva looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Kate’s almost impressed. Tony’s a different man.

* * *

It’s nearly ten in the morning, and Tim’s the only one in the office.

Probie’s called in sick, DiNozzo texted him something vague about being late, there’s no answer from Ziva, and he’s got a terrible feeling that a body’s about to drop. There's definitely _something_ hinky in the air.

“Fornell says it looks like they cleared out of there fast. They didn’t find anything but some scraps of food and some ratty mattresses,” Tony’s voice drifts from somewhere above him. 

“And how is she doing?” the Director asks. Tim swings round and watches, but they don’t see him, wrapped up in whatever world they're in. Tony looks like crap. 

“Ziva’s with her now,” he says. “I just want to keep this contained, you know, she’s been through enough. And this has to be off the record.”

“I think your team can help,” the Director answers, her voice softer. Tim has to strain to hear. “If you need to contact Gibbs-”

“Ziva’s going to call him. I’ll keep you posted, Director.”

Tony makes to go, and Tim twists back, looking busy.

“Tony,” Shepard calls after him, “if you need anything-”

“Yeah.” Tony’s voice is bitter. “Thanks, Jenny.”

He strolls into the bullpen a minute later, looking almost carefree. Tim knows better.

“Who’s Ziva with?”

The mask drops from Tony’s face. “Not now, McGee.”

Another day, Tim might have left it, but something about today is messed up, and he's not going to sit aside while his team are wading through whatever shit's gone down. “DiNozzo,” he says, “bring me in.”

Tony turns and marches towards the elevator.

Tim follows.

* * *

“Thank you, Abby,” Ziva says, her voice soft in the stillness of the apartment as she hangs up the phone.

Kate observes her and wonders just how much Ari’s sister has replaced her. Ziva meets her eyes, and smiles.

“When Abby finds out that you are here,” she says, “we will have no quiet for a week.”

“I can’t wait to see her,” Kate admits. With the names, more memories are coming back, and at the mention of Abby she feels a rush of affection that warms her whole body.

Ziva joins her on the couch. “They have all missed you very much,” she says. “You left very large socks to fill.”

Kate blinks at her. “Um… do you mean shoes?”

“Shoes, yes, shoes.”

“Well… thanks.” She wriggles, uncomfortable. “How long have you been with them?”

“Almost a year. They are good people.” Ziva smiles suddenly. “Even DiNozzo.”

“Is he as insufferable as ever?”

“Now that he is in charge, it is much, _much_ worse.”

Kate shudders, but finds herself laughing.

“Ah,” Ziva says, as her phone buzzes on the desk, “perhaps we can resolve the problem.” She answers on speaker, “I have someone here who needs to speak to you.”

Gibbs’ voice drifts through the line, cracked and fuzzy. “This better be damn good, David-”

“Hey, Gibbs,” Kate says.


	3. when you are lonely and sick at heart

“Kate?”

Gibbs’s voice, disbelieving, almost innocent, spills through the line.

“Yeah,” Kate says, furiously calm. Tony and Fornell explained, and Ziva’s filled in the gaps, but Gibbs – gruff, determined, unrelenting _Gibbs_ running from his problems all the way to Mexico? This is insane. Kate’s going to get to the bottom of this. But she _won’t_ be sentimental. “You broke Rule Three,” she says instead, as light as she can keep her tone. 

In DiNozzo’s wave of success and responsibility and Ziva’s effortless filling of her socks – _shoes_ – Kate feels a slight vindictive satisfaction in putting her finger on the one thing that _has_ gone wrong while she’s been away. They _didn’t_ manage just fine without her. Look what happened.

“You reached me, didn’t you?”

“It took too long,” she accuses, trying not to catch Ziva’s eyes. “I needed you last night, Gibbs. I had to put my life in _Tony_ ’s hands,” she adds, an unconvincing laugh punctuating her words.

“I left him in charge for a reason,” Gibbs answers, quick, defensive. “He can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Kate sighs, “I know.” She’s always seen this in Tony. It’s good he’s starting to trust it. “But we still need _you_ , boss.”

“Kate, what do you want me to do? I’m not _there._ ” He pauses, but Kate waits, expecting more. It takes a moment, but he gets to it: “I’m coming to DC for a weekend next month. It’ll be good to see you. But DiNozzo can handle this.”

“And what about Ari?” Ziva demands. 

The chill runs all the way through the phone line.

“Ari?” Gibbs echoes.

“I sent him to a motel where he can lie low,” Ziva confirms, “but I do not know what he is going to do. He believes I am on his side, but if he has a plan, I cannot bridle him in.”

 _Rein_ , Kate thinks, ready to correct her, but Gibbs brushes past it. “He died in my basement.”

“I died on a rooftop,” Kate counters. “Then I woke up.” _That_ gets through. “There’s a hole in my head, Gibbs. There’s a person out there who did this to me.” Now she looks Ziva in the eye, but she doesn’t find the strength she’s looking for – something else is there instead. “I want to find them,” she presses on, “I want to put them in the ground. Won’t you help me?”

She might as well have asked him for the winner of _American Idol_ for all the time he takes. The wait is terrible. Kate doesn’t _know_ this new Gibbs. He’s refused to help her once already, and that strange something in Ziva’s eyes –

“Alright,” Gibbs says, resignation in his tone. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Tobias parks his rental car and walks to the gate of the Indianapolis Our Lady of Peace cemetery. God help him, the things he does for NCIS are really getting out of hand.

It wasn’t his place to go to the funeral. He sent a card to her parents, of course, expressed his sympathies to her team in his own way, stunted but sincere, but he and Agent Todd were always really just business acquaintances. And yet he’s the one who got her somewhere safe, who helped her remember her team, who’s now giving up a day with Emily to investigate whatever the hell’s happening to her. He really does hate himself sometimes.

Her grave looks… normal. There are flowers laid out, starting to wilt; a few laminated photographs. He picks a couple up. A youthful Todd in a graduation gown grins back at him. In another, she is a child – surrounded by three boys much bigger than herself and one tall, laughing girl. The headstone is clean and perfect, featuring Todd’s Presidential Medal of Freedom (does she even know about that? She ought to be told); the ground is damp, but it’s been raining; the grass is well-worn as if often visited.

“Good morning.”

Tobias spins around – a man, about forty, big and imposing, carrying flowers, smiles back at him.

“Hi,” he answers, uncertain.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh.” He steps away from the grave. There’s nothing useful there, anyway. “I was just... I was in town. Wanted to drop by.”

The man offers a hand. “Steve Todd.”

“Tobias. Fornell.” He shakes, vaguely unsettled by the serene aura surrounding the man who must be Agent Todd’s brother. When all this is over, she’s going to have to tell her family, he realises – or at least somebody is. 

“You worked with her?”

“Some.”

“Okay. Sorry, it’s just, when I saw you – we had some trouble with vandalism a couple months back.”

Tobias glances back at the pristine grave. “It looks well taken care of.”

“We had it fixed up nice. Our Katie was a hero, you know, but first she was family.”

Tobias shakes his head. “It’s not right. What’d they do?”

“Smashed in the headstone.” Steve clenches his jaw, glaring at the grave as if the perpetrator might be hiding behind it. “Dug up the flowers, made a whole mess. But there was nothing to investigate. The security tapes were scrubbed.”

“That’s odd,” Tobias agrees, as conversationally as he can. “Seems a lot of trouble. Were other graves attacked?”

“Just hers. The police said it was probably because of the work she did. Someone has beef with the feds, they take it out on her – ‘cause she can’t retaliate. They wouldn’t do anything.” Steve picks up the old flowers and holds them out to Tobias. “Check it out.”

A camera sits nestled amongst the leaves. Steve grins.

“Hey, you worked with Katie. You a fed, too?”

“FBI,” Tobias confirms.

“And _you_ didn’t spot it,” Steve says with satisfaction. He plucks out the camera and settles it in the fresh bunch. “Of course, we can’t do this forever. But, you know, for now. Gives my mom some peace of mind.”

Steve lays the fresh flowers down and gives Tobias a sideways look. He averts his eyes, backs away, lets the kid have a private moment.

Steve turns back a minute later, all smiles, but his eyes are damp. “Good to meet you, Tobias. I’ll see you around.”

“Hey. If anything like that happens again, or if anyone tries to bother your family, give me a call.” Tobias hands over his card.

“Thanks,” Steve says, smile fading a little, “but we can hardly involve the FBI over harassment or desecration.”

“You’re not involving the FBI. You’re asking a friend for help. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well,” Steve says, wilted flowers tucked under his arm, “I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Tobias says, and watches Steve go.

The things he does for NCIS.

* * *

Ziva is more forceful, much more an unknown quantity, than Tony is. When there’s a knock at the door, she tells Kate to go and hide in the bedroom, and Kate actually goes.

 _“There’s a pistol in the safe,”_ Tony said this morning. That’s no use. She doesn’t know where his goddamn safe _is_ , let alone—

“Kate?” Ziva’s face appears in the doorway; she’s smiling. “You have a visitor.”

Trepidation courses through her veins. There are so many people to see, so many reactions, and she longs for them all but there’s only so much she can take just now.

The door swings open and her heart soars. The kindest face in the world gazes back at her, tearful and warm. “Hello,” Ducky says, “my _dear_ Caitlin.”

For the first time since she woke, Kate feels a rush of tears filling her eyes. It’s good to know she _can_ still cry, some part of her observes in a corner of her mind. “Ducky,” she lets out, half-choked.

He is by her side in seconds, gently guiding her into a hug.

Kate half-registers Ziva’s soft, “I will leave you,” and the click of the door, but it’s Ducky, sweet, paternal, oddball Ducky, who suddenly makes her realise the reality of her situation.

She’s _dead_.

She was autopsied – there’s a Y-shaped scar on her torso that she’s been pretending not to see – and she was buried. She was in the ground for a _year_. A bullet fired by Ari tore through her skull, destroyed half her brain, and – shit, she was registered as an organ donor, does that mean –

“What the hell’s going on, Ducky?” she whispers to the wall, chin resting on his shoulder. “How could this happen to me?”

“I don’t know,” he says, soothingly, “but if you want to find out, you are talking to the very man.”

Kate draws back, wipes her eyes, and can’t help but smile.

* * *

Tony stills the elevator, the only real place he can get some privacy in this whole damn building.

“I don’t know, Kate,” he says, facing the ceiling and closing his eyes. “What am I supposed to do?”

The presence next to him has a smile in her voice. _“You’ve got me back, the real me, and you’re_ still _hallucinating?”_

“The real you’s got enough to deal with.”

_“She’s not fragile, Tony. Nobody wants answers more than her.”_

“I know that.” 

_“Then bring her in.”_

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know what brought her back. If she’s even still _you_. How much of our Kate is in there? How do I know I can trust her?”

 _“You’re being a coward,”_ she sing-songs in his ear.

Tony turns, facing the wall, and opens his eyes. “I know.” Her pristine image, free of scars or wounds or bullet holes, hovers beside him in the mirror for a moment before dissolving into air.

But the Kate in his head is an extension of him, he knows that – a projection of the image _he_ has of her. The Kate at his place with Ziva and Ducky’s a whole different person. Real problems. Real fear. Isn’t she going through enough?

Isn’t he just going to lose her all over again in the end?

* * *

Despite Ducky’s warmth and sweetness, Kate finds his presence draining. He’s kind, of course, he’s her old friend, but everything about him is screaming _you should be dead_ , and it makes her feel naked and empty.

When Tony comes home, he takes Ducky by the elbow with a murmured “well?” and they disappear into a corner with Ziva. Kate doesn’t have time to think about it before she’s engulfed in a tight, tearful, delighted hug from Abby.

“It’s really good to see you, Abs,” she breathes, squeezing back as hard as she can. The hug lasts a full minute, and when Abby finally lets go, Kate suspects she’s going to have a shadow for a while. She’s okay with that. Abby is energy, joy, light. She’s the antidote to Ducky; he made her feel dead, but Abby brings _life_ with her.

McGee appears behind Abby, hugs Kate and kisses her cheek and welcomes her back in choked tones. He’s different, too; confident, grounded, he even seems taller. Kate feels safer suddenly; in the love and affection of these two people she sees how the others _didn’t_ quite accept her. In the corner Ducky, Ziva, and Tony talk in whispers, glancing at her every few seconds. Does everyone doubt her?

But then Abby is taking her arm again, pouring out information like a waterfall, and a hand lands on her back – McGee’s, she realises after a split second of panic – guiding her to sit down, but he won’t drop his eyes from her forehead, even though Ducky brought her fresh putty to fill it and powder to hide it, and –

“Did Tony tell you? You were awarded the _Presidential Medal of_ _Freedom_ , Kate –”

– and Ducky’s gaze bores into her, cold and appraising under the thin mask of tenderness, and the blaring of a phone silences the room. She springs up, unsteady, stumbling –

“Kate?”

“Kate –”

The door to Tony’s bedroom slams behind her, and she presses her back to it, squeezes her eyes shut, presses fists against her ears, slides down to the floor, and lets the tears spill out.


	4. whose wakening should have been in paradise

_Breathe._

_Dammit, Todd, breathe, get yourself in order._

_Breathe!_

Wait. Kate pauses, suddenly thoughtful. Does she even _need_ to breathe? After all, what’s going to happen if she stops? She can’t die again.

Can she?

She exhales slowly. Normal bodily functions seem to be working. She gets hungry and thirsty, she can cry, she can _really_ cry, she still has emotions and senses.

Of course, she doesn’t feel pain. And though half her brain is missing, she’s thinking like normal. She _is_ breathing, though Ducky says her lungs were donated, but her heart is gone too and she doesn’t have a pulse. Her kidneys are gone, and she can still use the bathroom. She still has her bones, but her frame is thinner than ever, making her look sick or diseased. Perhaps that’s what this is, some kind of insane sickness.

Well, her breathing is under control now, so that’s something to hold onto. And the apartment is quiet.

Kate buries her face in her hands. God, this is _mortifying_. She’ll never be able to face them again. A panic attack brought on by _McGee_? What the hell is wrong with her?

A gentle knock makes her scramble away from the door and to her feet.

“Kate?” Tony asks, his voice full of trepidation. “Can I come in?”

Kate exhales one last time and opens the door.

“Hey,” Tony says, a hand running through his hair, a bashful sort of smile on his face. “You okay?”

She glances past him.

“Everyone’s gone home,” he promises, “I’m sorry. I should’ve known better than –”

“No,” she lets out, “no, it’s okay. I do want them around, just – God, I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

“Thinking like that won’t get you anywhere,” he points out. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Never mind me, what’s the matter with _you_?”

He drops his jaw in a look of mock offence so outrageous she can’t help but laugh.

“You’re being so _nice_ to me,” she says. “It’s really weird.”

“This is a one-time-only back-from-the-dead deal, Princess. Just wait a few days and we’ll be fighting like an old married couple again.”

Insane as it might be, Kate really likes the sound of that.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t tell you. Fornell went to the graveyard. Something did happen there, about a month back.”

“Did he get the tapes?”

“They were scrubbed. He ran into your brother there, talked with him a bit.”

“Which brother?”

Tony pauses to think. “Stuart?”

“Steve?”

“That’s it.”

Good. “He’s the one with common sense,” she offers. She hasn’t really thought about her family since she came to. Hasn’t dared. But when she does dare – Steve and Rachel, Will and James, even her fussy, obnoxious, irritating mom – she misses them all like the hole in her head.

“Maybe,” she murmurs, distant, barely aware of the words passing through her lips, “maybe when all this is over I can go and see them.”

Tony winces. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

And her hopes are dashed.

But Tony is still DiNozzo, nice or not, he’s still her irritating, obnoxious partner, and she won’t have him see her upset. She shakes it off.

“What else did Fornell find?”

* * *

With Ari on the loose, it is all fingers on deck. Kate remains under Tony’s protection. McGee watches over Abby. As for Ziva, she is to stay with Ducky.

He is the preferable choice, of course. Kate, understandably, does not yet trust Ziva, and the tension yesterday was unbearable. Abby is delighted and will not hear a word of doubt against her dearest friend returned from the grave. McGee is little better. But Ducky, Ducky is a man of death, and he is as uncertain as Ziva regarding this development.

That night, they talk over the matter for hours, coming to no satisfying conclusion. Ducky says it is indeed Kate’s body, and he may not use the word _corpse_ but he is thinking it. The others are happy to have their friend back, though Tony does seem cautious, but Ducky is unsettled and angry. “Caitlin was _desecrated_ ,” he thunders.

The next morning, he goes into work early, with the intention of going over Kate’s autopsy report, in case he missed anything. Ziva drops him off, then goes on to Arlington.

“You are late,” Ari observes in Hebrew as she kisses his cheek.

“It’s Saturday,” she tells him. “I slept in.”

Ari laughs at that. “What is it the Americans say? You’ve gone native.”

Perhaps she has. Ziva smiles. “And you? Have you kept safe since yesterday?”

“I remained in the motel all day, and only came out after dark,” he says pacifyingly. “But I cannot do this forever.” He takes her arm and draws her to a bench, where they sit together in the shadows.

“Nor will you. You can’t go on as before, of course, but we can –”

“Ziva, you didn’t tell me it had been a whole year.”

Ziva stares at him for a moment. “You didn’t _know_?” she demands.

“I know _nothing_. I died in Gibbs’s basement. Then I woke alone in an alley in the middle of the night, only hours before I found you. If you want answers, little sister, you’re talking to the wrong person. I only have questions.”

Ziva takes in the information. If this is true – and she knows most of her brother’s tells – then he does not even know that Kate is back. But if she was kept in a cell, why was it that he was let loose immediately?

“What do you want to know?” she asks instead.

“First, who killed me?”

She shrugs. “I was told that it was Gibbs.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“I never said that.”

He looks away, out to the city lights in the distance. “It wasn’t him. He was unarmed and right in front of me. I could see his hands.”

“Then he was protecting someone. Perhaps he sensed that I didn’t trust him.”

Ari takes her hand. His skin is cold, much colder than Kate’s. “Then how did you come to join him?”

She shrugs. “Father wanted to appoint a liaison. I wanted to know more of what happened.”

“Father _ought_ to have seen that I was avenged,” Ari scowls.

“Ah, but that isn’t how to win assets. You know Father.”

“And what have _you_ done to avenge me?”

“They fell apart, Ari. Once Agent Todd was dead they could not cope. Agent DiNozzo runs the team now, but he is cold and empty. Doctor Mallard talks to nobody.”

“And Gibbs? _He_ can’t be dead.”

“No, not dead.” Ziva smiles at him toothily, feeling like a villain. “He is retired. He left for Mexico months ago.”

Ari stares at her. “So that was your revenge? That’s… _impressive_. How did you manage it?”

“I,” Ziva informs him, “am _very_ good.”

* * *

Surrounded by files, in a pair of Ziva’s jeans and an oversized t-shirt of Abby’s, Kate curls up on Tony’s couch and catches up on the year she’s missed, occasionally glancing up to confirm details with him. “Is our innocent Probie _really_ a senior field agent?” “Who’s Agent Lee?” “God, I’m glad I wasn’t around for the Ranier thing. Gibbs might have made _me_ do it.” 

Tony’s patient, but she can feel his irritation starting to grow. Part of her wants to poke and prod and tease until he snaps, to see a little something of her old partner, to fight him like old times. But he’s been really decent. Things aren’t normal right now. Maybe one day they will be, but right now, she has it in her power to make things either harder or easier. Besides, if she’s really honest, she always knew he was capable of more than he let on. _Someone_ had to give him a hard time. Just now that’s already been taken care of.

She puts the files aside. “This year’s kind of been hell, hasn’t it?”

Tony shrugs. “We got by.”

“But – having to work while you’re grieving, taking over the team, all the changes –”

“Hey, who says I was grieving?”

Kate pulls a face. “Oh, too _soon_ , DiNozzo.”

But she throws a cushion at him, playful, and there’s a hint of the old Tony in his grin. He flings it back at her, hitting her square in the forehead, laughing, and Kate can’t help it – she dissolves into giggles.

The door bursts open.

In an instant Tony’s on his feet, shielding her, weapon out and aimed at the doorway. Kate takes up a defensive stance too – but she isn’t armed, and there’s nothing she can do.

“Sorry,” Gibbs says, appearing in the door, hands held out and empty.

 _Sorry_?

He’s staring at her.

Right. Kate forces a smile, crosses the room to him. “It’s good to see you,” she offers lamely.

Gibbs seems to snap out of it. He looks her up and down, taking her in, stripping away the layers and looking inside. She’s exposed under his eyes, vulnerable and seen. Finally, he nods. “Hey, Kate,” he says, and his voice is thick and rough.

“Hi,” she says back, smothering a nervous giggle in her throat.

Gibbs’s eyes are on her forehead. She’s filled the hole, but it’s still there. Still visible.

He has a _moustache_.

“Hey,” Tony says, chipper, standing off to one side and looking back and forth between them. “I’m here, too.”

“Yeah? And what are you doing about this, DiNozzo?”

Tony’s hackles rise; it’s a look Kate hasn’t seen on him before. Not fury, just irritation – the irritation of a boss. “I’m _handling_ it, Gibbs. Come on. Jenny wants us at the Navy Yard.”

“Jenny?” Gibbs echoes, disbelieving and a little bit pissed.

 _God_ , Kate thinks, _this is worse than a family reunion._

* * *

Jenny almost can’t believe it, even now. She shakes hands with Kate Todd, a bit dazed, trying not to look at the mark on her forehead.

“We’re doing everything we can to investigate what happened to you, Agent Todd,” Jenny promises. It’s empty, of course, _everything we can_ amounts to hardly anything at all, but Todd smiles and thanks her and doesn’t say what she must be thinking – it isn’t enough.

“And what’s that, Jen?” a rough voice asks from the basement doorway. Of course, _he_ doesn’t have the subtlety of a brick through a window.

“Jethro,” Jenny acknowledges, unable to squash the thread of irritation in her voice.

In the corner of her eye, she sees Todd mouth to Tony, ‘ _Jethro?’_

“Okay,” Jethro says, getting into her space, towering over her and glaring into her eyes. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing?”

The facial hair kind of ruins the effect he’s going for. Just for good measure, Jenny glares right back at him, then turns on her heels and leads them to a table, where Cynthia’s gathered the little information they have. “Ducky is studying the biology of what’s happened. It seems that – sorry, Agent Todd.” She nods to Todd, letting her take over this part. After all, it _is_ her body.

“I’m functioning just like normal – almost. I don’t have a heartbeat, but everything else seems to be working, even though half my organs are gone.” Todd shrugs. “Ducky will have more to say on it than I do.”

Jenny nods in acknowledgement. There’s not much more that Ducky _did_ say, though he’s still studying. “Fornell is following up on some leads,” she continues, “to the people who… exhumed you. Ziva met with Ari this morning –”

 _“_ Alone?” Tony demands. Jenny turns her glare on him, and he subsides slightly, though still angry. Todd is tense beside him.

“Ari doesn’t know what brought him back. He woke up in an alley and went looking for Ziva, that’s all he remembers. She told him _you’re_ still in Mexico, Jethro, and he has no idea that Agent Todd is back.”

The wave of relief that runs through all three of them is almost tangible.

“He’ll figure it out, though,” Todd murmurs. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Time’s not nothing,” Tony says, earnest eyes on his friend.

Jethro shakes his head. “Whoever brought Ari back did it for a reason. He’s up to something.”

“Then we’d better get to work,” Jenny says. “Jethro, come with me.”

At least _he_ can traverse the building freely. Behind them, Todd and Tony get to work.

“Do you need me to help you with that?”

“For the love of God, DiNozzo, get your hands out of the way.”

There’s a trace of a smile on Jethro’s face as the elevator door closes, letting Todd and Tony argue in peace.

“Look,” Jenny says, carefully, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have someone you care about come back from the dead.”

Jethro says nothing, watching her, expectant.

“Have you considered that she’s not who she says she is?”

“Well, what do you think, Jen?"

She waits for more.

“It’s her body. Her bullet hole, her missing organs, her tattoo. The way she behaves, it’s all _Kate_. You heard her arguing with DiNozzo. Jen, it was like that _every goddamn day_ for _two goddamn years_. I… thought I’d heard the end of it.”

Jenny doesn’t smile, but there’s an unmistakable fondness between Todd and the two men. Not so much between Jethro and Tony, but there’s no wonder of that, she knows what her agent has had to deal with these last couple of months.

“I don’t want things getting out of hand,” she offers.

“You think you have things _in_ hand?” Jethro explodes.

She sighs and gets comfortable. She’s going to be in this elevator for a while.

* * *

“Um – Agent DiNozzo?”

Kate whirls around at the voice. Jimmy Palmer, hovering in the doorway, gapes at her. He grabs hold of the frame to stop himself from falling.

“I – I – I –“

Kate stays frozen in place while Tony goes to haul the kid in. “Yes, Palmer?” he snaps.

“I’m sorry,” Palmer manages. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Kate.

She raises a hand and waves awkwardly. “Hi, Palmer.”

“H-hi.”

“Sit,” Tony instructs, shoving Palmer to the table. “Dammit! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nothing, I – I – I left my spare glasses yesterday. I don’t understand what –”

“None of us do,” Kate says, fixing a glare at Tony. _Give him a minute._ “It’s okay, Palmer, just take a breath.”

Palmer obeys, poor kid, closes his eyes, but when he opens them to see Kate in front of him, he gapes all over again.

“Yes,” Tony sighs, impatient, “it’s Kate. No, we don’t know what the hell’s going on. Yes, we are figuring it out. No, you are not to breathe a _word_ of this to anyone, or so help me God, Palmer, you will never set foot in this building again, do you hear me?”

“O-of course,” Palmer lets out. “Does Doctor Mallard know?”

“He knows,” Kate says.

“But you don’t discuss this with him,” Tony presses. “Not a word to anyone, even people who know about it. This never happened. You were never here.”

Palmer nods, shaky but holding it together. “Yes, sir,” he says, standing. “I’ll leave you to it. Um, Agent Todd – welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Kate says, watching as Palmer scurries out, shutting the door carefully behind him. When he’s gone she turns to Tony. “I don’t think he’ll talk,” she offers.

“He won’t,” Tony agrees, but the door swings open again. “For God’s sake, Palmer –”

But it isn’t Palmer.

 _“I brought you something to eat. You should keep your strength up.” “It’s no use holding back, you know.” “You have to_ run _, Kate.”_

Kate stands, drifts towards the figure in the door without realising she’s doing it. A looming figure standing over her – only she isn’t looming now.

“ _You_ ,” she whispers, eyes wide. 

Tony snaps to attention. “Kate?”

“It was _you_. You came to see me in my cell, you – you let me go.” Kate feels tears pricking her eyes. “You’re one of _them_! I don’t understand. What are you –” she turns to Tony, searching for answers. “What is she _doing_ here?”

“Kate,” Tony says, coming to stand by her side, “this is Probationary Special Agent Michelle Lee. And she’s got some explaining to do.”


	5. why cry for a soul set free?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF. Okay, so I didn’t update last week as I was busy having anxiety attacks and trying to plan out what ended up being 3 separate TV series concepts (the assignment was for one, but they kept on not working), and Kate really didn’t want to do what I’d planned for her this chapter, but we’re back to normal now! I hope you all are looking after yourselves in your various states of lockdown and treating the people you encounter with kindness and lenience.
> 
> Thanks as always for reading!
> 
> This chapter comes with a warning for mild gore and suicide.

Michelle Lee.

She looks tiny now, shrinking into herself under DiNozzo’s glare, eyes wide and watering. Kate’s heart goes out to her, despite everything. She lays a pacifying hand on Tony’s arm.

“Sit down,” she says, “and tell us about it.”

Lee obeys, slipping into a seat at the desk. Kate sits opposite her, and Tony paces behind her. With a shaking hand, Lee writes down an address - the resemblance to an interrogation doesn’t escape anyone.

“What do you know that I don’t?” Kate asks. 

“They’ll come after me,” Lee protests. Tony glares at her and she shrinks even more.

“They haven’t come after me,” Kate offers.

Lee smiles at her sadly. “You aren’t important to them. You were a failed experiment. You couldn’t remember anything, so they fixed their mistakes and tried again. They would have killed you, but when you escaped it suited them just as well.”

 _I can still be killed. I can still die_ , Kate thinks, cataloguing the information away for further thought later. “Why did it suit them? What did they want with me?”

“They wanted Agent Gibbs back in DC,” she says. “You couldn’t remember, so you couldn’t get him to come back. But when you escaped, they decided you would find someone who knew you eventually, and word would get back to Gibbs.”

“Only I didn’t escape,” Kate says, a little steel in her voice. “You let me go.”

“They were distracted. They were going to kill you, but there was a window of time when you had a chance. They were busy putting their other piece into play.”

“Ari,” Tony observes.

“They learned from what they did reviving _you_. He would have woken up with all his memories intact, and no knowledge of the cells. They left him in an alley to find his own way. He would be trying to complete his mission.”

“To kill Gibbs,” Kate realises. “But Gibbs was in Mexico.”

“There are two people in this world who could bring Gibbs back from Mexico,” Lee says, “and both of them are dead.”

But Gibbs isn’t back for Kate. He didn’t want to come until Ziva mentioned Ari. 

“And where do you fit in all this?” Tony asks.

“They needed someone inside NCIS,” Lee explains. “I was already part of your team when they came for me.”

“Who are they, Michelle?” Kate presses, her tone gentle. At least she’s not forgotten _this_ part of who she is.

“I don’t know,” Michelle lets out, “they’re just killers.”

She opens her shirt, and Kate recoils. There’s a bullet hole over Michelle Lee’s heart.

“They said,” Michelle stammers, “see, I have a little sister, Amanda, she’s seven, and she’s more like a daughter to me, and she’s dead. They promised to bring her back to me, you _have_ to understand. But I’ve failed them now. It’s too late. I’m never getting her back.”

There’s one thing Kate and Tony both failed to realise. This is _not_ a secure interrogation room.

Michelle draws a knife from her pocket and slits her own throat.

* * *

Michelle is dead.

That’s one thing, Jimmy thinks, sitting by himself beside a cold autopsy table and an even colder body. But she’s dead _twice_.

“I don’t understand,” he says out loud.

“Neither do I, my dear boy,” Doctor Mallard’s voice announces from behind him. A gentle hand lands on his shoulder. “So you and Special Agent Lee here had an intimate relationship?”

“I – um – yes. Sort of,” Jimmy admits. There’s no use hiding anything now. “That is, we – we never – uh – I never saw _this_ ,” and he gestures vaguely at the hole in her chest.

“Yes,” the Doctor says, taking a seat beside him. “It is quite a shock.”

“I guess looking back, there were things out of place. I never gave it much thought, but… well, she was always cold. And when we… well… I don’t like to be indelicate…” he looked down into Michelle’s serene face once again. He had thought his affair with her was special and passionate and sexy, but had she ever actually… _wanted_ him?

“I gather her bodily functions were limited,” Doctor Mallard suggests, “much like Caitlin’s.”

“Yes, I believe so, sir,” Jimmy agrees gratefully, “but she – I never realised anything was off. She always said we had to – oh, God, we had to find places in the office to, to spend time together, and I used my pass to get us in – do you think it’s my fault?”

“Certainly not,” Doctor Mallard says, and his tone dismisses the idea as total nonsense. Jimmy exhales a sigh of grateful relief. “She wanted to save her sister. She would have found a way if she could.”

“And she couldn’t.” Jimmy almost lets his hand drift to stroke Michelle’s hair, but stops himself. He might have enjoyed her company, he might feel sorry for her now, but she _was_ a traitor.

“So she’s really dead this time,” he says instead. “No coming back.”

Doctor Mallard shakes his head. “We only have a working theory. But, yes, it would appear that her second life came to an end when she severed her trachea.”

Jimmy suddenly feels very lightheaded. He scrambles away, landing in front of a sink just in time to prevent any unsightly messes. 

When he’s gathered himself enough to turn around, Doctor Mallard looks a little embarrassed. “Sorry,” he says. 

Jimmy shrugs. “I have to admit, Doctor,” he says, “I feel pretty stupid right now.”

Doctor Mallard gives him a smile. “Then we had better remind you how intelligent you can be,” he says. “This is going to be an extraordinary autopsy. Do you suppose you can handle assisting me?”

Jimmy grabs his gloves.

* * *

Hands wrapped tightly around the steaming mug, Kate sips her tea and tries to clear her mind.

A familiar presence drops into the seat beside her. “You okay?” Gibbs asks, his voice gruff but gentle.

Gone are the days of trying to impress Gibbs with every scrap of energy in her body; Kate shakes her head, silent, and stares into the cup.

“DiNozzo and Ziva are going to check out the address Lee gave you,” he offers. “Might get some answers.”

Kate looks up at him then, and realises that this is it, more than this morning, _this_ is her big reunion with Gibbs, and right now he is all but hers to command. He would do anything for her, just now.

“You’re not going with?” she says instead. She doesn’t _know_ this Gibbs.

He chuckles, which really just proves her right. “Nah. Not on active duty anymore. Tony can handle it.”

She smiles. “He’s grown up a lot in a year.”

“It changed us all, losing you,” Gibbs admits freely. “Other things have happened, but you’ve been missed.”

“That’s nice,” Kate murmurs. Gibbs makes a movement, and she watches in amazement as he shifts as if to put his arm around her, then thinks better of it. 

Suddenly a boldness runs through her that she never felt before – at least not with _him_. The words spill out in a small, certain voice, almost before she can consider them. “How could you leave them, Gibbs?”

He looks at her, a long and appraising look that once would have made her squirm. “They didn’t need me anymore.”

Kate scoffs. “They never _needed_ you. They were _better_ with you.”

Suddenly he’s on his feet, and Kate mirrors him on autopilot.

“ _We_ were better with _you_!”

“I didn’t ask to be _shot_!”

“You jumped in front of a bullet!”

“With a _vest_ on!”

“I never gave you permission to _die_ , Agent Todd!”

The wild outrage drops out of her, leaving a quieter, simmering fury. “You really are an utter _bastard_ sometimes,” she says, “you know that?”

And just like that, Gibbs is laughing. Kate glares at him for a second, but she can’t hold it, and she’s giggling too, a little hysterical, a little manic.

Maybe everything will be okay.

* * *

What the hell do they even _charge_ these people with, Tony wonders, watching Ziva question the three men who seem to be running this whole crazy scheme. Isn’t it kind of the opposite of murder? They held Kate prisoner, they set Ari loose on DC, they killed Amanda Lee, they turned innocent _Probie_ into a spy – but none of that is the worst thing. Is necromancy a chargeable offence?

Right. Focus.

“What did you want with Ari Haswari?” Ziva is demanding of the apparent ringleader. “It was not just to kill Agent Gibbs. You have the resources to do _that_ without violating the dead.”

The man says nothing. Ziva gets close to him, tracing the line of his jaw with her gun. Tony does his best to look equally intimidating.

“My partner and I,” Ziva murmurs, “we have loved ones who were harmed by your little experiments. Will they ever be allowed to rest?”

Silence.

Ziva smiles toothily. “Agent DiNozzo,” she says, “perhaps you find yourself in urgent need of a coffee.”

Tony knows better than to let Ziva do these things. There are ways to extract information without… but these people violated _Kate_. “Perhaps I do,” he agrees, numb, and fumbles his way to the door.

_“You’re in your head.”_

He sighs and fixes his eyes straight ahead of him. “Not you again.”

_“Always the charmer, right, Tony?”_

“Hey, you’re the one renting a room in my head _and_ my apartment.”

_“You could let me go. You’ve got her back now.”_

“Ah, but then I’d be alone with my thoughts.”

_“We both know better than that. You’re never going to get absolution, Tony. You didn’t see the gun. She died. Now she’s back. Isn’t that the second chance you’ve been wanting all this time?”_

“She’s still _dead_ ,” Tony hisses, and turns to glare at her. She smiles at him, waves, and disappears.

 _God_ , Tony wants the real Kate back.

* * *

Thankfully, Kate thinks, this time she was alone when the panic attack struck. She lets it all out and then counts carefully, breathing in and out, in and out, until she has it all back to normal.

She’d better not make a habit of this. But that is _him_ , the man who did this to her. With a few strings pulled, Director Shepard has made the interrogation rooms available, even found a way to get Kate up there, and now she watches, alone, as Gibbs and McGee question Peter Watson.

It was Watson who set her off. He talked about her so coldly – an experiment to run. “The specimen,” he called her – her and Agent Lee and even Ari, everybody he hurt.

A gentle knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, and Director Shepard slips into the room. “How are things going?” she asks, her voice soft, her smile gentle. Kate still isn’t sure how to believe that this woman was once Gibbs’s lover.

“He hasn’t said so, but I’m sure this is about Ari,” Kate says. “Letting him loose on the city seems so random that it has to be deliberate. Did Tony and Ziva check in?”

“They had eyes on Ari for a while, but they lost him,” Shepard tells her. “Ziva has some ideas, they’re going to keep looking. Tony wants to see what Ari’s going to do before bringing him in.”

Kate nods absently. Then turns – “Ma’am, can I ask you a question?”

“Provided that you never call me ma’am again, you can,” Shepard smiles.

“When all this is over, what are you going to do with me?”

Shepard sits down and indicates for Kate to follow. “Who says that’s going to be my decision?”

“I don’t know if this body’s going to last,” Kate says, “maybe I’ll rot where I stand or maybe I can keep going, I don’t know. But my purpose is here, with NCIS. With this family.”

“Well,” Jenny Shepard says, “it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”


	6. but i have not often smiled since then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yet again, apologies for the delay. My MA degree and my Key Worker job (lucky me!) have kind of taken over my life just now. But rest assured I will absolutely finish this fic over the course of the summer. It’s all planned out in a grand total of four separate colour-coded spreadsheets and I’m so excited for you to see what’s coming in this and the final three chapters!
> 
> Again, this chapter has a content warning for suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Finally! Cheery thought for you on this fine Sunday: today, May 24th, marks the anniversary of Kate Todd’s death. In writing this fic, it’s been lovely to see that I’m not the only one who still remembers and loves Kate, and who STILL ISN’T OVER THIS, IT’S BEEN FIFTEEN YEARS, I’M NOT OKAY ABOUT IT. Thank you all for reading and interacting, you’ve made this whole project so worthwhile!
> 
> Here we go.

Tony’s still tailing Ari with Ziva, so McGee takes over his protective custody duties, so the two of them go back to Tony’s place. McGee won’t let Abby join them, but she calls in, spending the whole evening on speakerphone, enthused and determined not to let go. 

Kate can feel McGee trying desperately not to look at the hole in her head. She can feel Abby trying to rein in the idea that _this is so cool, Kate, you_ _’_ _re like a real-life zombie!_ And more than anything she can feel the wave of all her team thinking about this, thinking about _her_ , thinking about how they’re going to solve this goddamn problem.

“Kate, you’re thinking too loudly,” Abby says. Kate squints at the phone on the coffee table.

“Sorry,” she says, and tries to focus.

“This is no good,” Abby tells her firmly. “You and I need to get drunk.”

“Over the phone?”

“No drinking while under protective custody,” McGee interjects.

“I don’t even know if I still _can_ get drunk,” Kate points out. “It’s no use, Abs.”

Abby is straining to be in a good mood, and Kate almost feels bad for her, except she’s the one who’s dead, and she _gets_ to be pissy if she wants to. That’s the tradeoff for whatever the hell all this is.

“Okay, what do you want to do?” Abby demands.

“I want to-”

 _kill myself_ , she thinks, before she even realises it.

Holy _shit_ , Todd, there’s no need for that kind of drama.

McGee is watching her expectantly. She forces a smile and gets to her feet. “Actually, I’m starving. Let’s cook something.”

She was right; a goal to achieve perks them up, and McGee follows her, phone in hand, to Tony’s kitchen, happily arguing with Abby over why she really mustn’t come over. Kate smiles. This is more like it.

McGee rummages through Tony’s fridge, and Kate gathers chopping boards and pans, until they decide they’ll never find something interesting they both want to eat, and settle on a simple pasta. And then they hear a sound outside the door.

* * *

Ari slips round a corner and takes three random turns, ending up in a back-street full of Dumpsters. Of course, Ziva is the one tailing him, and that won’t be enough to throw _her_ off, but it is a start. 

And he has a few tricks up his sleeve. His little sister doesn’t know everything.

Ari slips into an alley and scrambles up a ladder until he reaches a rooftop. He lies down, looking onto the ground, and holds his breath.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…

He has to let the breath rush out of him after all. This living death seems to have no rules. What have they done to him? And why?

In the meantime, Ari knows there is only one thing he can do, and that is his mission.

Below him, Ziva appears in the alley with Agent DiNozzo close on her tail, running, breathless.

“I guess this is going to take a while,” DiNozzo says.

Ziva smiles back at him. “Do not worry,” she replies, her tone sincere, “We will find Ari. He cannot hide forever.”

DiNozzo takes her word as fact. “Let’s call it an all-nighter,” he says. “I’ll call Kate.”

 _Kate_.

Caitlin Todd..

It’s all Ari can do to remain silent. _She_ is here. As alive as he is – that is what he guesses, at least. Whoever brought him back, whatever game they were playing, they chose to bring Caitlin back, too.

Wonderful.

Now he must just find out where she is.

* * *

McGee draws his gun. Kate grabs a kitchen knife, the closest thing to her, and brandishes it at the door.

It swings open.

“Caitlin,” a voice sing-songs, pleasant and accented, gleeful. Kate’s grip tightens on the knife.

“Ari,” she says. She’s not afraid of him anymore. What’s he going to do? Kill her again?

“Oh, come now, there’s no need to wave weapons around, surely. Aren’t we all friends?”

“Put your hands in the air, Ari, and we’ll talk about it,” McGee says, his own weapon trained on Ari’s forehead.

“How dramatic.” Ari enters, hands over his head, and kicks the door closed behind him. “I’m not here to kill you, Caitlin. Or your friends. I just want to find out what you know.”

“About whoever did this to both of us,” Kate finishes. So Ari and his people really aren’t responsible for this.

“Quite so.”

“Well, bad news, I don’t know much. It was a man called Peter Watson, if that means anything to you.”

“Nothing.”

“Kate,” McGee cautions, but Kate ignores him, takes a step closer, knife still held out in front of her.

“They wanted to bring Gibbs here. At least, that’s what Lee said. But I don’t see how bringing you and me back to life is the most efficient way to do that.”

Ari smiles. He’s charming, Kate thinks, as charming as ever, totally unconcerned with anyone but himself, totally ready to kill or maim whoever he might need to in order to get the job done.

Maybe he can still be useful, though. Kate mentally lays out the apartment in her mind. McGee is steps from her, weapon trained on Ari; Abby still hovers behind the breakfast bar, uncertain, but less afraid now that Ari is showing his hand. There’s the gun in Tony’s safe, but she can’t very well get there. The knife and McGee will have to be enough to protect her. And Ari knows more than he’s letting on. Kate’s sure of it.

“Go over there,” she says, indicating the couch with her knife. “Sit down. McGee?”

“On it,” McGee says, following him with his gun ever-ready. In a moment of selfish satisfaction, Kate’s pleased to note that Probie still follows her orders. Something, at least, is going right.

* * *

Abby clings to the phone, listening intently as Kate and McGee deal with Ari. He doesn’t seem to have any power, but Abby knows better than to trust _that_.

Ari isn’t aware of her, though. His attention is all on Kate. Abby can hear in his voice that he has that smarmy smile, _you think you_ _’_ _ve got this under control but you_ _’_ _re wrong about that_. McGee and Kate are too smart to fall for it, but it makes Abby nervous. She draws out her cellphone, hesitating over the number that means _Gibbs_ before settling on the one that says _Tony_.. She doesn’t dial, she texts, afraid to miss anything. Tony will see it, he’ll go to his place, he’ll take Ziva and Gibbs, and everything will be okay. Ari doesn’t have anything against Tony. Everything’s going to be fine.

“Tell me exactly what happened to you,” Kate says.

“I do not know for certain. I woke up alone in an alley. The last thing I remember before that was sitting in Gibbs’s basement, expecting to kill him. I believe somebody must have killed me instead.”

“Gibbs killed you,” McGee tells him through gritted teeth. Kate, almost imperceptibly, lets out a scoff.

“Ah, I see that Caitlin knows better. No, it was not Gibbs, he was in front of me and unarmed. I have my suspicions, however. Agent DiNozzo was there that night,” he declares.

Can Tony really be the one to have killed Ari? Abby can’t help staring. It just doesn’t seem right. Tony would have liked that, but Abby somehow doesn’t think he did it.

Who does that leave? Who would Gibbs…

_protect?_

Abby hits _send_ on the message in her phone. Ziva’s family anyway, it’s only right that Gibbs should protect her. They all will. _Abby_ will.

“Nevertheless,” Ari continues, ignoring the storm of questions swirling around inside Abby like a few too many Caf-Pows, “I am here for a purpose. I do intend to see to it that Gibbs is killed.”

“McGee, no-” Kate lets out quickly –

Then there is gunfire, one, two, three, four bullets, a silence.

* * *

“It’s not murder,” McGee declares. “This bastard’s already dead.”

“Am I?” asks Ari, laughter in his voice.

Kate vaguely registers McGee dropping his gun, and keeps her knife in her hand. There’s something…

“Tell me more about your plan to kill Gibbs,” she says.

“Your partner here just tried to kill me,” Ari observes. “Don’t you think that deserves some acknowledgement?”

“I don’t understand,” McGee protests. 

Kate doesn’t look at him as she says, “We were both killed by bullets to the head, and we were both brought back. Clearly bullets can’t do anything permanent in this messed-up afterlife, or whatever it is. Right?” And she looks to Ari for the answer. God, she hates that.

“I believe so,” Ari agrees. “Now, look what mess you’ve made, Agent McGee. Look at all these parts of dead terrorist all over Agent DiNozzo’s furniture, whatever will he say?”

“He’ll say _finish the job_ ,” McGee tries, but it’s no good, and Kate knows it.

“You can’t kill me,” Ari says. He turns to Kate, smiling. “I’m just like you, Caitlin. And when Gibbs is dead at my hand, and all your team are dead at my hand, and everyone you ever knew is _dead at my hand_ , you and I will last forever. Why resist?”

Kate bites back a sense of rising bile. “That isn’t going to happen, Ari,” she says. “You’re wrong. We can die. I’ve seen it.”

“Of course you have, my dear. But now, perhaps you’ll see another death.”

Ari pulls a round pellet out of his pants and holds it high. Of course. A gun would be impossible to conceal, but a _grenade_ , if they weren’t looking – and they weren’t, were they? She should have known better.

“Are you ready to face it, Agent McGee?"

“I’m not afraid,” McGee says, stalwart, but Kate notices his slight tremble. He’s a good kid. He won’t let Ari see his fear.

“Ari, you’ll blow us both up,” Kate says, reasonably. “If you really think we can live forever, do you want to live in pieces?”

“Perhaps not.” Ari pockets the grenade again. McGee relaxes, but Kate’s finger twitches on the knife. “I want you to come with me, Caitlin.”

“What?”

That throws Kate. Surely he’d know better than to want her alongside him – surely he knows she’d find a way to contact her team and have him locked up forever.

“I want you to leave the country with me. I have a plan. Will you waste away, bearing your immortality alone?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she tells him. “You can’t possibly make me.”

“Can’t I?” Ari stands. Kate mirrors him, quickly, knife trained on him. He kneels down and picks up the gun McGee dropped.

“Ari,” Kate begins. Ari fires.

McGee’s (red, vibrant, living) blood sprays everywhere, and he hits the ground.


	7. miss me, but let me go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that was mean. I’m not sorry or anything, of course, but I admit it was mean.
> 
> Another gore content warning for this chapter – it gets going right away, so, you’ve been warned.

McGee crumbles in slow motion, collapsing to the floor. Kate and Ari watch together, stilled by the spilling of blood. Ari smiles.

There’s a sound at the door and Ari looks up, keeping his gun trained on Kate – they both know it won’t kill her, but she’d rather not be shot all the same – and they wait as the door bursts open.

Gibbs and Tony enter side by side, weapons out, yelling an incomprehensible mess of words, and, Kate knows, clocking every detail in the apartment. Tony’s movements are calculated, putting himself between Ari and McGee; Gibbs moves to cover Kate, but there’s something she’s still trying to remember, something to do with Agent Lee…

Ari grins and points his weapon at Gibbs.

“This time there will be no mistake,” he says.

Kate flings herself forward as Ari fires. Gibbs yells her name. A hole appears in her arm, and she cries out, but doesn’t shatter. Ari smiles at her.

“Stand aside, Caitlin.” The weapon shifts then, focuses on Tony. 

“You’ve got nothing against him,” Gibbs says, “you’ve got no reason to-”

“This is the man who killed me,” Ari says, flexing his grip on the gun.

“No,” says another voice, “It was me who killed you.”

Ziva enters the room. She isn’t holding a gun, Kate registers; perhaps she has realised what Gibbs and Tony haven’t, that there’s no point. Perhaps she’s counting on the idea that her brother won’t shoot her. But he does swing his weapon to her, he does lock eyes with her, suddenly blind to everything else in the room.

 _Think,_ Todd!

“Ziva,” Ari lets out, finally, _finally_ surprised. “You-”

“Me,” Ziva confirms.

Ari raises his weapon, aiming. “Remember this, Caitlin?” he asks, almost jovial. “Remember what happens when my prisoners break the rules?”

 _There it is._ Kate grasps the thought that’s been evading her and strikes. In one swift movement, her knife opens Ari’s throat. He falls.

“Remember this, asshole,” she mutters.

It’s done.

The knife is taken from her hand, and she thought she’d be trembling, but she’s steady, in control, relaxed. She always hoped she’d kill the bastard one day.

“Cover him,” Tony barks out, and Gibbs is over Ari, checking to make sure.

“It’s alright,” Kate says absently, “that was what killed Agent Lee.” She moves away, drops to her knees beside McGee.

“Do you think,” McGee grunts, clutching his shoulder, “I can get an ambulance now?”

* * *

“Scalpel,” Ducky says the next morning, and a scalpel is put into his hand. He smiles down at the body on the table. “I told you I’d enjoy weighing your liver one day.” In death, his hated enemy looks just like any other man, broken and weak and empty, but there’s still a sort of ice in Ari’s open eyes.

“But we’re not weighing his liver, Doctor,” Palmer points out behind him.

Ducky sighs. “No, my boy, but it’s the metaphor that matters.”

It satisfies Palmer. Ducky turns back to the body.

“So it really took cutting his throat to kill him,” Palmer observes, coming up to look over the body. “None of those bullets did any damage.”

“Yes,” Ducky agrees, “it would seem so. Of course, this harkens back to philosophies of the breath of life all over the world. In the creation story put forward in Genesis, God _breathed_ life into the first man. It’s very interesting-” he peels the skin carefully up from over Ari’s lungs - “that while hearts and brains are no longer required, breath seems to be the key force at hand with all these mysterious undead.”

“Yes, very interesting, Doctor,” Palmer agrees dutifully.

“I wonder how many more there are,” Ducky muses. “Agent Lee has given us a good deal of answers, but a number of questions remain.”

There’s no answer from Palmer at this observation. Ducky looks Ari Haswari in the eye.

“Perhaps you will give me the answers I need to understand what has happened to Caitlin,” he informs him. “You always wanted to hurt her. I would like to use _you_ to keep _her_ in good health.”

“Doctor,” Palmer begins, his voice quavering a little. Ducky probably shouldn’t have spoken about Michelle Lee in so cavalier a way, he supposes, the poor boy has been through enough. He turns.

Gibbs stands there, just behind him. “You think we can keep Kate going?”

“I see no reason why not,” Ducky says, “all we need to do is keep a close eye on her breathing. Given the nature of her condition, it may be best that I do that myself.”

Gibbs nods, but his eyes are on Ari.

“Is there any news on Timothy?” Ducky prompts gently.

“He’s going to be fine. A day in hospital and he can even go home, Abby and Ziva are with him.”

“And Caitlin?”

“Upstairs,” Gibbs says, a smile on his face, “going over the paperwork for her return to NCIS.”

* * *

It’s very nearly official.

Kate sits alone in the conference room, piles of papers all around her. She won’t be allowed into the field, but that’s fine; Ducky doesn’t think her body will heal like a living one and she’d rather not test the theory. Desk duty for the rest of her life may not be perfect, but it’s a pretty good deal if you ask her. 

Life is a complicated concept. She doesn’t know if she’ll die of old age someday, or if she’ll keep going, or if there will come a time when she does what Agent Lee did and ends it all.

 _What will happen to me_ isn’t a useful question. She doesn’t know the answer and she can’t investigate until she hits on a solution, so Kate files it away, _I’ll think about that later_ , and moves on.

_What did they want with me?_

Michelle said it was about getting Gibbs to return to DC. Ari had just been left in an alley to fend for himself with no information or orders. But what job is there that she, Kate Todd, is the only person for?

There's something there. Just out of reach. Just beyond her capacity. It's driving her absolutely _crazy._

* * *

The office is empty. It's Sunday and the only people here are the ones tied up in this whole mess. Kate and Jenny are upstairs, Gibbs and Ducky are in the basement, and here, Tony’s finally alone.

With _her_.

_“What do you want to know, Tony?”_

He closes his eyes. “The answers.”

_“On that, I can’t help you.”_

“No,” he says, “you’re one of the questions.”

_“Then ask it.”_

“Well…” He takes a moment, thinks it over, decides what exactly he wants to know. Even though she can’t help him. “What do I do about you, Kate? You join my team and things go back to normal? And we all just ignore that you’re-”

“I don’t think you should ignore it,” her voice comes back, gentle but heavy with emotion. “It’s part of who I am now. You can’t change it any more than I can.”

“I want to.” He rubs his face heavily. She’s so real he can almost feel her perching on the edge of his desk. He daren’t open his eyes. “I want you back, Kate, the real you. I wish I could talk with you about all this, but…”

“You know where to find me, Tony,” she says, a touch of surprise in her voice. A touch of hurt. “I’d listen. Any time.”

“The you in my head is one thing,” he says. It’s like the words come out of him without any input from his brain. The real Kate would laugh at that. She’d say that’s how he always talks. “The you in my head only says what I’m thinking anyway. The real you – well – let’s not dress it up, okay? The real you’s dead.”

“The real me?” 

He hears movement. Oh, God. Oh, _God_ , no. He forces his eyes open.

The real her.

It’s the real Kate sitting on his desk, concern in her eyes, a grey pallor to her skin, and that bullet hole in her forehead.

“I don’t understand,” she offers, awkwardly. She must be sensing his horror. Tony’s sure it’s written all over his face. “What other me is there?”

Tony just gapes at her. “How… how much of that was you?” he asks, afraid to find out.

“Tony, really, are you okay?”

He shakes his head, gets to his feet, scrambles away.

“Tony,” she calls after him, chasing him, but he can’t do it. He lets the elevator doors slide shut in her face and sinks against the wall. Now what the hell is he supposed to do?

* * *

Kate stares after him, bewildered.

The _real_ her. What other her is there?

Then again, of course, she isn’t so sure she’s real herself. It’s not a state of being she’s ever had to question.

Kate paces through the office for a minute, but it’s no good, she can’t stand being here. And yet…

She starts climbing the stairs.

 _No effect on my muscles,_ she notes, _doesn’t wear me out, doesn’t release endorphins, exercise is meaningless._ Not that it matters now, of course.

She slips into the conference room. The papers all wait for her.

_No._

Something else sits there, too: the knife she used to kill Ari. Normal chain of evidence isn’t being followed in the same way, Kate remembers; then they’d have to explain what the evidence is for, and before long everyone would know about her, and they won’t say anything until they know how this ends.

Those people who brought her back – whatever they want, they still must need her. Kate doesn’t buy Agent Lee’s claim about letting her go, or about getting Gibbs here, there’s something bigger at play, a puzzle to be assembled, and she’s part of it. She’s an important part. They need her. They need her _alive_.

Kate turns over a sheet of paper on the desk and reaches for a pen.

 _Don’t tell my family anything about this,_ she writes, and hesitates, and adds, _I’m glad I got to be with you all again. Everything will go back to normal now._

With trembling, delicate fingers, she picks up the knife.


End file.
